


california dreamin'

by Narryfavoritejiall



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: '70s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, College, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Photographer Peter Parker, Protests, Quentin Beck Is A Good Guy, Semi-Public Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unsafe Sex, gay bars, just weed tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narryfavoritejiall/pseuds/Narryfavoritejiall
Summary: He wants to see Peter studying naked and he wants to see Peter taking pictures. He wants to see Peter riding him to get himself off, then they could watch a movie and order take out.Just –Quentin wants Peter.And, yes, he is 36 and Peter is almost twenty. And, he is a teacher and Peter is a student.Does it really matter?Or. It's the end of the '60s and starts of the '70s and they found each other at a convenient time.





	california dreamin'

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh i hope you like it? Xo

Quentin frowned when he heard yells from afar, he's ascending the stairs that lead to the entry of the university, he was walking fast, already late to his lesson –it wouldn't be a good first impression on his first week of being a teacher here, he's already being judged–but, soon he adopted a slow pace when he noticed the commotion at the top of the stairs.

Quentin stopped, he held his portfolio on one hand as he raised the other to shield his eyes from the sun, trying to see better. He did. And, he almost rolled his eyes when he saw the cause of the yells and crowd. 

Students gathered by the entry of the school, seeming a little agitated, but thankfully not violent. A few of them are holding posters, Quentin can't make out what they read, he can't understand what the students are chanting either. He recognized the type of clothing they're wearing, the kind young people are putting on-trend nowadays. 

He leaned against the handrail of the stairs with an unbothered expression on his face, feeling kind of amused at the sight in front of him –He doesn't know what they're even protesting about. He's not that curious. 

More people started gathering around. It seems like this was just getting started. _Great._ At least he'll have an excuse to be late to class. 

Quentin sighed and reached up to try and loosen the turtle neck uselessly. He didn't think of the slight heat that will be present today. But, it is the middle of July in New York, his fault honestly.

"Fuckin' hippies, huh?"

The man raised his eyebrows and turned to look to his side where the voice came; he chuckled and watched Dr. Banner lighting up a cigarette as he watched the unexpected event.

"God, look at them," The other teacher shook his head and smirked promptly, "Trying to save the planet. _Ha_."

"That's what they're yelling 'bout?" Beck snorted, crossing his arms.

Banner hummed in affirmation and shrugged, "I mean. I respect everybody, but those potheads sometimes get on my nerves."

He looked at the young ones, studying them, before he clicked his tongue and smiled lopsidedly, "I think they're kinda cool."

Bruce gave him a fake irritated glance, all while blowing smoke, "I had a little respect for you, Beck. Now, I've got none." 

Quentin laughed, accepting the cigarette that his new friend offered him.

They stood there for what seem twenty minutes, but maybe they were ten. When the university's officers started pushing the students away, threatening them shortly when they were reluctant at first. Quentin smelled weed as the students started retracting from the area. Forcefully, but they were probably going to invade another place with their 'peaceful' protests.

Beck sighed again, he was getting quite the show and now it was ending. 

"You got classes right now?" Banner asked as they waited for entry to clear up.

"I do," He nodded, burning off his cigarette on the sole of his shoe, "Might get out earl–"

He got interrupted by a body colliding into him. Making him stumble back and drop his portfolio. His first instinct was to grab the person, who was going to fall down, but Quentin got a hold of the arm. Steadying them both.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir!" A young voice said and Quentin waved dismissively, still looking down as he picked up his stuff from the ground.

"It's fine, are you okay?" He asked, finally looking up. Only to find a boy, guy? He definitely looks young. Beck stared as the boy who crashed against him was smiling apologetically. 

"Parker, don't tell me you're behind all this too," Banner sighed, crossing his arms.

"We're not doing any harm, Mr. Banner," The boy grinned politely, crossing his arms too and swinging lazily from side to side.

Banner pointed at him, "Don't want you getting in trouble, Parker. You hear me?

"Yes, Mr. Banner," Said 'Parker', doing it in a singing tone, almost teasing the teacher and Bruce walked away with a grunt, muttering under his breath 'fuckin' hippies'.

Peter waved at him with a happy grin and turned to look at Beck.

Who –was busy looking at the boy. He didn't know why, but he seems interesting. Maybe it's the way he's dressed effortlessly, or how his wavy hair is messily combed back, it shines golden under the sun and his arms and cheeks are a little flushed from being under the sun. He has brown eyes behind the square glasses the boy's wearing.

_He's sort of cute. _

Quentin thought, without guilt.

Beck smiled at him and nodded at the disappearing crowd, "Appreciate the cause." 

That's kind of a lie, he doesn't really care about the planet. But, the wide grin the young boy gave was worth it. His teeth are really well aligned too. His lips are thin and Beck eyed them shortly.

"I'm glad," Parker said, doing a small bow.

They smiled at each other once again and Quentin's lips stretched wider when Peter looked down timidly, crossing his arms, he looked like he was thinking to say something as he wiped the sweat off his hairline quickly. He looked a little nervous. Quentin should be walking to his lesson, but he didn't know why he wasn't moving. Watching this young boy with khakis and a striped shirt was amusing. Maybe pleasant. 

"Uh, sorry about that," Parker pointed at Beck's portfolio, and chuckled, "A friend pushed me." 

"Don't sweat it, kid," Beck shrugged, squinting under the sun. 

They nodded awkwardly when silence filled their air. They could just walk away, but they weren't doing it. Quentin wonders what Peter studies, or if he even goes to this university, Quentin's been here for a week and he hasn't seen the boy. He would've remembered, for sure. 

Then, Parker frowned confusedly and pointed at him, "Are you teaching here, sir?" 

_Sir. _

Quentin cleared his throat, "That's right. Just got started." 

"Oh, I study here," Parker said way too excitedly, pointing back at the school. His shirt rode up and Beck couldn't help but stare at the short line of pale skin of the flat belly. Peter noticed, and Quentin quickly looked up. 

Parker smiled and fixed his hair distractedly. 

Then, a loud voice interrupted what Parker was about to say.

"Hey! Let's go already!" 

The voice belonged to a black female, who looked impatient under the heat, she was waving at the boy hurriedly. She was holding two backpacks and she raised one in the air. 

"I'm not carrying your shit!" 

Parker rolled his eyes, but a small chuckle left his lips, he shrugged and looked at Quentin again, while putting his glasses up his slightly crooked nose that was glistening with sweat, "Welcome, then." 

"Thanks," Beck nodded. 

"I'll see you around, I guess, Mr...." Parker cringed, as a silent question. 

The man raised a hand to shake and gave him an easy smirk, "Beck. But, call me Quentin, please." 

"Okay, _Quentin_," He giggled, shaking the larger hand shortly. He was already backing away, still looking at the man. 

Beck did notice how smaller the boy's hand was, how he wore colorful bracelets and his forearm was adorned with dainty, golden hairs that could barely be seen. _Pretty. _For a boy, Parker did was weirdly pretty. 

"Bye, then...Maybe I'll see you in class, professor?" Peter shrugged. 

Quentin shrugged too. They didn't stop grinning politely, "Maybe." He likes the word professor coming out from someone as good-looking as Parker. It's hot. 

_God, Quentin._ He could be his student. He hopes Parker is, though. That'd be fun. 

The boy gave him the last wave before he ran off to where the girl was. She was smoking as she threw him his backpack with a roll of her eyes before they started walking together. Beck chuckled as he watched them push each other playfully as they went, he still leaning on the handrail, watching that Parker kid disappears in-between the crowd. 

Well, now. 

Parker's smile is attractive. In all honesty, the boy is attractive, that's a fact. Cute, small and attractive. Hot, even. Beck digs the glasses. 

It's been a while since a guy has caught his eye – but Parker did quite make a good first impression. 

–

"Who was that?" MJ smirked at him, elbowing Peter in the arm. Her brown, curly hair framed her face. 

Peter shrugged and avoided her gaze by looking at his feet walking. He smiled and gripped both straps of his backpack, "No one..." 

"Oh, come on," His friend laughed and pushed him away, "I saw you making him '_the eyes_', you know?" 

"Shut up!" He laughed, dodging away from her playful punch, "I just apologized for throwing his stuff to the floor when _someone _pushed me, you airhead."

"You flirt and apologize at the same time, boy?" MJ raised an eyebrow. 

"I wasn't flirting," Peter mumbled. 

"Okay, sure," She shrugged, but a knowing look was on her face, "He's kinda hot, though. Your type, huh?" 

"He's a teacher, MJ," Peter didn't hide his smirk. 

Michelle gasped and laughed at the same time, "Oh, my God! I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you fuck teacher, dude." 

The boy hit her arm, "Dude, I didn't know Bucky was a teacher when we did it!" 

"That's hip. I wish Mrs. Hawson was into chicks," His friend sighed, shrugging. 

"Oh, dude, don't be like that," Peter hugged her shoulders, then he leaned in to kiss her cheek, "There's plenty of fish in the sea." 

"I guess," She mumbled before a smirk stretched her lips. She elbowed Peter again, "Would you do him? –What's his name?" 

"... Quentin?" 

"Well, now, would you do him?" 

The boy rolled his eyes and looked down again, but he shrugged and bit down a grin, "Maybe..."

"You think he'll do ya?" 

"I mean," Peter dragged the word out, cheekily, "He did _look _at me, you see." 

"Awesome," MJ nodded with a smirk, "I'd do him too, you know?" 

"_But_, you're gay," Peter stated. 

"But, I am!" Michelle threw her head back, laughing as she pushed Peter again. Making him stumble and laugh too. 

Peter looked back to where Quentin was standing, but it was now empty. He really liked the black turtle neck and beard. 

Michelle's right, Quentin is his type. 

–

He saw Parker one day after. Again –He wonders is Parker is really his name. Maybe it isn't, Bruce called him that, but teachers tend to call their students by their last name. Quentin sometimes does that, even if tries to stay 'hip' with the students. 

In all honesty, he wanted to know more about that Parker kid who apparently liked to protest with the hippies. But, he couldn't go around asking his friend Bruce what is the deal with that student. It would be wrong, creepy even. So he stayed quiet and just hopes to see Peter around. Like the kid suggested at their first meeting. 

And –God loves him. Because it happened. 

There's just something about Parker, man. Quentin can tell even if he doesn't know anything about him. 

Quentin was fighting with a vending machine currently, it swallowed two extra dollars already and he was getting annoyed. He slapped the side of it and huffed, raising a hand to clean the waterdrops off his forehead, it had been raining earlier. He only wanted a chocolate bar.

And, he was late to his class again. 

He slapped the machine again and muttered, "Come on." 

"It likes to stuck sometimes, you know?" 

A kind of familiar voice interrupted him trying to recover his snack. Quentin turned around and found _Parker _grinning at him. He's holding two books against his chest with one arm. His pants are loose and his shirt is quite tight, his sneakers are dirty and his hair is slightly wet. He looks like he's been running and he looks so cute with those glasses on. 

Beck noticed all of that by eyeing him up and down quickly. Peter did the same, and Beck would have smirk flirtily like he knows it always works. But, they're on school grounds.

"It's stubborn, huh?" Quentin sighed, pointing at the machine. 

"Oh, yeah," The boy chuckled, "You'll get used to it, Mr. Beck." 

"Ah, ah," He raised a finger, "What did I say?" 

Peter rolled his eyes playfully and Beck raised his eyebrows at that, "Quentin, yes?" 

The man hummed, smirking, "Yes, Parker?" 

"It's Peter," _Oh, alright. _That suits him. Quentin digs it. Peter. "The teachers are the only ones who call me Parker." 

"Well, Parker. I am a teacher," He said teasingly. 

"Well, if you call me that. I'll have to call you Mr. Beck," The boy sighed, faking disappointment. 

"Dang, you're cruel," Beck rubbed at his chest, "You're making me feel old, now." 

Peter laughed, throwing his head back for a second, "You're not old, Mr –" He covered his mouth with his palm when Beck widened his eyes in warning, Peter hid a smirk as he said muffledly, "Quentin. You're not old at all." 

"Well, thanks, kid," Quentin shrugged and leaned his side against the vending machine. Already feeling comfortable, mostly when Peter was smiling and giving a step forward. He doesn't care that he is late for class. Not really. He's having a good time watching Peter's small shirt fitting tight on his torso, the color was burnt orange and Quentin likes the contrast that it makes against the fair skin. 

"Ask me my age," Peter smiled broadly, tilting his chin up. The corner of his eyes creases when he smiles. Adorable.

The man sighed, faking boredom, "How old are you, Peter?" 

He clicked his tongue and stood straight, "Old enough." 

Quentin eyed him slowly and chuckled, he then leaned in slightly and sniffed twice. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and rested back, watching the brown eyes staring at him curiously, "You're old enough to smoke pot too, I see." 

Peter merely widened his eyes and looked behind himself, before giving the teacher an embarrassed glance, "Is it that obvious?" 

He smirked, "Just a little." 

Peter covered half of his face with his book, "Are you telling on me, Mr. Beck?" He sounds playful, Peter probably already knows Beck is not the kind of teacher to be strict. He is flirting, Peter is definitely flirting and Quentin isn't complaining about it. Honestly, he never thought Parker was remotely straight whatsoever. 

"Nah, got more important things to do than punish a teenager for smoking pot," He shrugged, acting easy. 

The boy frowned and gasped at the same time, "I'll be twenty in a month!" 

"Impressive, yeah?" 

Peter smiled shyly and looked down while pushing back his wavy hair, a single curl fell on his forehead. And Quentin resisted the urge to poke Peter's belly to make him lookup. That would be inappropriate. Though, it was weird how easy they were making conversation and feeling comfortable. 

"What do you teach? 

"History," Beck answered, proudly. 

"That's hip. I like history," Peter delivered a toothy grin.

"What do you study?" 

"Literature," He rolled his eyes, "Boring, I know." 

"It's not at all. I doubt it's more boring than history," The man admitted. 

"You're trying to be nice, I get it, Mr. Beck," He sighed exaggeratedly. And, Quentin fucking hates when people call him that, but Peter saying that has changed his mind. Maybe, he is the only exception. 

"Alright, alright, you caught me." 

"So..." Peter said awkwardly, after a short period of silence. 

"So," Quentin said confidently.

"Do you have classes to teach?" 

"Sure I do," Beck straightened up and pointed at the hallway with his thumb, "Should we? 

Peter nodded and stood by his side to start walking together. Their arms would brush and maybe their proximity was unnecessary, but neither of them was moving away. They walk in silence for a bit, Beck watched some people waving at Peter, who would wave back with a kind smile. He is so pretty. 

Quentin decided to start a small conversation again. 

"How come I haven't seen you since the classes started?" 

Peter perked his head up at him and Quentin appreciated the height difference, "Oh, well, you see. I got this photography gig outside New York and I wasn't able to attend classes until yesterday, you see." 

"You're a photographer?" Quentin asked, genuinely interested. 

"Tryin' to," He shrugged, looking down, "I really like that sort of thing, you know?" 

"That sounds awesome, Peter," He nodded, giving him a lopsided grin, "I'd like to see what kind of pictures you take." 

Peter then smile up at him, timid and easy, "I'd like to show you, Quentin." 

"That's a deal, then," The man raised a hand, and he watched Peter shake it quickly, almost dropping his textbooks in-between clumsy, awkward movement. Beck chuckled and Peter looked away with a snort. 

Before silence could invade them. Beck spoke again. 

"So, tell me, how's the 'save the planet' thing going?" 

"It's alright," Peter nodded, "Wanna hear about it, Quentin?" 

He really didn't want to hear about it. But, it was Parker who was speaking. 

So, Quentin let Peter ramble about global warming, pollution, public transport, bikes, vegetarianism, the existence of aliens, animal slaughter, the current president and even gay rights –and, Beck actually enjoyed it. 

Just because that Parker kid was too interesting and intelligent. 

–

Peter is studying literature, but unfortunately, Quentin won't be the one teaching him history. Or any subject for that matter. It was kind of a bummer at first, but he soon realized it was actually kind of great because that meant the excitement to catch a sight of the kid walking around campus would seem more interesting now, contrary to seeing him almost every day in a classroom. And, Quentin has experienced sleeping with a student and the outcome wasn't spectacular. 

Who's saying he will be sleeping with Peter? The voice inside his head. The horny, creepy and sex-deprived voice, yes. 

And, honestly? Quentin isn't too against it

He's certain Peter has the hots for him too. _Obviously._

It's been almost a week of knowing each other. Every time they see one another from afar, Peter waves at him with a bright smile, that African-American girl who's always by his side looks at Quentin up and down with knowing, intimidating stare. 

And, every time they have the chance to speak, Peter _will _flirt in that awkward, dorky way of his. Which leaves Quentin smiling and following his game. He loves to make Peter embarrassed, he loves to see him go red because Peter sucks at taking compliments. Quentin loves how Peter dresses and how tight his clothes sometimes seem to be, how his hair is frizzy from time to time and how he is always fixing his glasses. Peter is always asking questions about his career like he is actually interested, maybe he is. Quentin is really interested in the photography thing, he makes sure to tell Peter every time they talk. He's caught Peter staring at him and giggling with his friends soon after. 

Quentin has caught too the unkind comments some people make towards Peter's way. He's caught the shoves and hits in the back of his head, the insults and harming words–that homophobic bullshit Quentin's so disgusted and afraid of. 

He tried to talk with Peter about it, but the boy acted weirdly though and dismissed Quentin. He'll definitely try again. 

But–

He likes Peter's lithe, small body, with the slight broad shoulders, flat belly, narrow waist, and fit thighs. He's in the college athleticism team. He likes his crooked nose, the well-formed face structure, the weird eyebrow, and chiseled jaw. Quentin likes his hair, it's kinda long, where it curls at the back of his neck.

He has imagined his own hands pulling at it as he fucks Peter from behind. He has imagined how would Peter sound like when he's having sex; he's probably not too loud. Quentin wants to make him come, he wants to eat Peter out and suck him off. He wants to fuck him in his car or finger him in his bathtub, he wants to cook with him after fucking in his leaving room. He wants to see Peter studying naked and he wants to see Peter taking pictures. He wants to see Peter riding him and getting himself off, then they could watch a movie and order take out. 

Just –Quentin wants Peter. 

And, yes, he is 36 and Peter is almost twenty. And, he is a teacher and Peter is a student. 

Does it really matter? 

–

It's finally Friday and Quentin's second week in this new school. It's quite nice, he has to admit. 

He rejected politely Banner's offer to go have some drinks with the buddies, saying that he was too tired, which is not entirely a lie. 

He was planning on getting to his mediocre-looking apartment, ordering food, watching TV and going to bed early, only to go through his stash of porn magazines and jerk off to the pictures, even though his mind would wander off to Peter and only Peter. Quentin's been doing that a lot, and he only feels _slightly _guilty when looking at Peter in person. 

But. 

_But_–

Peter happened. Luckily and oddly, as if the universe was just keeping on putting them together at the right timing. 

Quentin was going to stop, but he had to hit on the breaks abruptly when he saw Peter by the end of the sidewalk, soaking wet and crunching down in front of his bike. The summer rain was pretty hard and the water hit the ceiling of his car quite harsh. 

He needs to admit that his heart broke when he saw Peter there, under the rain, wet textbooks on the pavement, probably ruined, his thin shirt is sticking to his body and his hair is covering his forehead, he is kneeling on the ground and he looks to be desperately moving something on his bike. 

Quentin parked right next to the sidewalk and Peter looked up, confused as Beck exited the car hurriedly, holding his jacket over his head, trying to cover himself from the rain. 

"Hey, kid!" He ran towards where Peter was, "What's happening?" 

Peter shrugged and stood up, "I think the chained snapped. My bike doesn't wanna go." 

The man was quick to decide, without hesitation he offered, "Well, come on, now. I'll give ya a ride." 

"Are you sure?" He asked in a worried tone, hugging himself from the cold, "I don't wanna bother you, Que–" 

"Don't be a spaz, come on, Pete, get in," Quentin waved at the car, just as Peter was nodding with a clattering jaw, "It'll get dark soon." 

Beck watched Peter picked up his books and struggled to carry his bike at the same time. Beck felt stupid and he hurried to reach Peter and gran the bike for him. 

"I got this. Get in the car before you turn into ice," He smiled, and Peter stuck his tongue out at him, quickly jogging towards the car to enter it. 

He struggled a bit to fit the bike inside his trunk, but with a few pushes, he managed. He was mostly wet now too, and he took off his sweater before entering the car, just leaving himself in the white, short-sleeved undershirt he wore that day. 

He sat down on the driver's seat heavily and closed the door. He caught Peter staring, and to not make it awkward, Quentin smiled at him and turned on the heater.

"You okay, there?" 

The young boy nodded, putting his textbooks on the floor, "Thank you." 

"It's nothing," He was beginning to shake his head. 

"–I mean it, you save me just now," Peter smiled with shut lips, shyly and promptly, his hair is sticking to his forehead and –

Quentin doesn't know what got into him. He wasn't thinking, for sure. Because he was lifting a hand and pushing back Peter's curls away from his face. He awkwardly retrieved his hand and chuckled. The doe brown eyes were staring intently at him as rain poured outside. 

"Sorry, I –" 

Unexpectedly and hastily, Peter moved on his seat, leaning in towards Quentin before he could even know what the fuck was going on. But, Quentin just raised his eyebrows and stayed still as Peter's face got close to his and a wet, loud kiss was placed on his bearded cheek. He caught the boyish scent of Peter before he was pulling away to land on his seat with a huff. 

Quentin looked at the boy with an amused and surprised smile, who was biting his nails nervously and looking at him with a soft expression on his face. It was wholesome. Quentin's heart jumped. The boy was almost pasted to the door as if he was afraid Quentin would react the wrong way. 

Fucking nonsense. 

Peter just made the first move. Even if it was such as an innocent, little peck to his cheek. 

"Thank you," The boy mumbled again. 

And, Quentin looked at the windshield, to were the deserted street was, he contemplated this moment, his life and decisions. Before he said –

"_Fuck it_." 

He kissed Peter. Quickly and maybe too harshly, on accident. He leaned in and connected their lips. It was just a long, unmoving peck and Peter was left petrified. Still backing against the door, Quentin was stretching himself in an awkward position, so he pulled away in case Peter didn't want this and if he just misread this.

_Ha, yeah right._

Peter panted, looked at the blue eyes, he probably didn't shut his eyes during the kiss. He looked like a lightened deer. So cute and young.

Much to Quentin's joy, Peter leaned in this time. Kissing Beck again. This time with more fervor and confidence. It wasn't just a taste. Quentin held Peter's arms and Peter held each side of his face with his hands. Their lips were moving, too messily, too hungrily and too desperately, but it was perfect.

So, fucking perfect because it was as if they had enough and they couldn't take it anymore.

Their lips smacking made noises, Quentin's holding the back of Peter's head now, just as he fucks and explores his mouth with his tongue. He tastes so sweet, like mint and bubblegum. He's perfect. Peter tilted his head experiencedly and as the water fell down their faces and into their lips. Their noses bumped together and Peter just pulled away to bite Beck's bottom lip, their eyes connected, and that made Beck kiss him harshly, a good harsh. It was his turn to bit Peter's lip and suck it in his mouth.

Their breathing on each other and they pulled away shortly to take a deep breath, they're still holding each other. Their foreheads are resting against one another and they're almost going cross-eyed, trying to look at each other. Peter grinned and pecked his lips twice. Beck did it but three times, he took his time. 

Beck couldn't help but smile, every time they intended to pull away, they'd come back like magnets. Giving each other constant pecks and licks, small kisses and big kisses. They couldn't get enough and Pete was almost kneeling on his seat, Quentin realized that when he found himself stretching his neck up.

Quentin let Peter kiss all over his cheeks and eyelids. It was sweet and it made him chuckle, he did the same, only slower and dainty. He is more patient than Peter, he can tell. Peter is more eager, he always is. And Quentin loves that. 

They made out one last time, it was hot and arousing, Beck held back from making his hand travel down Peter's back, to feel him up. Peter's lips are small against his and his shaved, smooth chin was left flushed from Quentin's beard rubbing there constantly.

They smiled against each other, they giggled –Quentin fucking giggled. And, Peter grinned widely. They were a mess.

They kept laughing, happily and thoroughly. 

Until, Peter pecked Quentin again and sighed, his breath hit his face. 

"This was better than I imagined," He mumbled, closed to a whisper. 

Quentin could beam, "You imagined this, huh?"

He wasn't the only one fantasizing about this, at least. 

Peter hummed, "A lot."

They kissed again. Softly and carefully.

Before, they pull away to look at each other properly. Peter's mouth and around it was red, his cheeks were flushed and his hair was on his forehead again. He smiled and Quentin did too.

Peter rubbed his finger on his beard, a dreamt look was on his face, "I think I like you." 

The man blinked slowly, he nodded, "I think I do too." He kisses Peter's palm. 

"Kiss me?" He whispered. 

Quentin did. 

They finally pulled away completely, after failed attempts of doing so, because they just couldn't _stop _making out. Peter was left smiling timidly, but triumphantly. And, Beck couldn't stop looking at him, almost entranced and amazed. They put on their seatbelts. 

Peter has this stupid smile on his face that was contagious. 

"Where to?" 

The boy sighed and turned on his side, watching Quentin with tired eyes, "I don't really feel like going back to my apartment where my roommate is probably fucking his girlfriend, you see." 

That was Quentin's call. 

"Wanna go to my place?" Fuck, Quentin was panting, his stomach-churning. 

Parker only nodded and leaned in once more to give him a gentle kiss. 

–

"Now, my place isn't the fanciest or biggest, I'm afraid," Quentin said, just as he was putting the key in the lock. Peter kept looking around, curiously. Then he looked at Beck with a frown. 

"I don't care about that, you klutz," Peter rested the side of his face on Beck's shoulder, looking up at him. 

He chuckled, "I know. 'Cause you're a hippie, right?" 

Peter laughed and bit his arm as revenge. 

Quentin opened the door wide and let Peter enter first. They're still pretty much wet, so he appreciated when Peter took off his shoes, leaving them by the door. His bare feet touched the carpet as he walked, looking around like a curious puppy. 

Quentin shut the door behind him and watched the boy with a grin. Still, a little baffled this was happening. 

"Oh my, you were serious when you mentioned you were a fan of The Beatles," Peter mumbled, thin fingers going over the records towered on a table in the living room. 

"I've never lied to you, you know?" Beck admitted, walking towards him. 

The boy looked over his shoulder and smiled, a big, happy smile and it made Quentin feel good. 

His apartment is pretty small. Without exaggerations. It's one big, single room almost. The kitchen, living room and bedroom are literally next to each other, there are no walls or doors to separate them. You can see Quentin's 'bedroom' from the living room and from the small kitchen. The only places with doors in his apartment are the bathroom and closet. Which are tiny too. 

He's brought previous fucks (although, he's sure Peter's not just a fuck) and some of them had been somewhat skeptical about Quentin's simple place. While Peter's looking at the records and books like a kid on Christmas. He doesn't judge. That's one of the things Quentin likes the most about him. 

Well, he has everything he needs right here in this apartment. Why would he need more? 

Peter gasped loudly and turned to look at Beck, holding a record to his chest, "I thought you didn't like Deep Purple, B!" 

Oh, yes, Peter started calling him 'B' as a short for Beck, because Peter thinks Quentin is too serious for someone like Beck. 

"I said I didn't know them," Beck raised a hand, "So, last weekend I went to the record store and bought some from Deep Purple."

"And, did you like them?" He looked at him expectantly. 

"They can be a little too heavy for my liking, but, yeah, I did," Quentin laughed lowly when Peter yelped dramatically. 

"I see, huh....I'll make you like them _completely_ by the end of the night. They're so hip, B. God. " 

"I'd love to see that." 

Peter pointed at the record player and smiled shyly, "Can I play something?" 

"Of course." 

As Peter was choosing a band to play, Quentin was staring at his ass and back and how his clothes were sticking to his skin when Peter spoke. 

"I started listening to The Hollies because of you, you know?" Peter sais quietly. 

"Yeah?" Quentin walked towards him until he was standing next to him, he looked at his face profile and saw the feckless that Quentin likes so much, "You dig it?" 

The boy hummed, he wasn't looking at Beck as he finally chose a record, "You see, my uncle used to listen to them a lot. That's why I stopped listening to them because they reminded me of him. But, it felt good to hear their music again, you know?"

"I'm sure your uncle would be really happy that you're listening to his favorite band, Pete," Beck mumbled, brushing back Peter's hair and making him look up. 

"Yeah," Peter smiled slightly, "You know ... I never got to tell him that, you know," Peter looked down, he let Beck pulled him close as Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who started playing. Quentin knows that's one of Peter's favorite bands, "–I never got to tell him that. _I like boys_." He whispered the last part, he then chuckled and shook his head, "Maybe that was better, you know. I don't think I could bare him rejecting me as my parents did."

Quentin held his cheek on his palm, he made Peter look up once again, "Maybe he would have accepted you, or maybe he wouldn't have –you... just need to be proud of who you are, Pete. That's all that matters."

The boy gave him a tiny smile, he's suddenly looking at Beck as if he hanged the fucking moon. He sighed and was quick to hug Beck's torso and hide his face on his chest. Quentin stood still for a moment before he wrapped his arms around the smaller and shorter body. He likes how Peter feels in his arms. 

This is the first time they hug like this, or kiss like this or talk like this for that matter. There's a lot of firsts tonight and it feels so right. 

"I'm really sorry I told you all that," Peter's chuckle and words were muffled, "Sometimes I tend to get emotional, you see. MJ says that kills the mood when I'm about to have sex with someone."

Quentin laughed and pulled away to give the boy a surprised glare, "Who said we're having sex?"

The boy crossed his arms and looked away, he's turning red and there's this big, embarrassed grin on his face, "Shut it." 

He tilted his head to kiss the boy's lips, making him straighten up to follow Beck's mouth, "Don't ever apologize for being emotional. That makes you human. I appreciate you telling me that, Pete. I really do." 

Peter sighed and nodded, smiling up at Quentin and hugging his neck, almost clinging to him, "Yes, sir."

They kissed again, for a moment, to taste each other, as if they have forgotten. 

"So, no sex?" Peter asked over a guitar cliff, Quentin smirked and licked Peter's lips, his hands lowered on his waist, too low to be decent, "Oh, bummer. I really wanted to do it with the history teacher."

Quentin pulled him even closer, their eyes are closed, they are kissing still. He swung them from side to side as he muttered huskily, "That makes you hot, huh?"

The boy swallowed and nodded, his hand was moving down Quentin's chest gradually, "It does."

"Good, 'cause we're doing it," He said, finally he's saying it, just as Peter's stomach protested from hunger, "... After dinner, of course."

They both laughed and separated. Lips wet. Peter nodded, "I'm starving."

"I'll order dinner. How about that?" Quentin looked at the pretty brown eyes. 

"Yes," Peter dragged out the 'S' and he looked down at their bare feet. He giggled and stepped on Quentin's toes, "We're still soaking wet." 

"Right," The man looked down at himself and then at Peter, who's beige shirt was see-through and he _needed _to stare. Peter smirked, quite shyly. "–Let's get changed first. I'll give you clothes."

Quentin said, walking them to his closet. 

The music played as they joke around. This felt to quotidian and comfortable as if they've known each other for a while and were already a couple –honestly, it's kind of amazing how well they found each other and how perfect they seem to be from one another. It almost seems like a dream. This kind of hippie student who's so smart and bright having the hot for the history teacher seemed like a joke. But, it wasn't. 

Oh, this was life. 

And, Quentin didn't complain about anything for once. Not when Peter was changing his clothes in front as he told him more about the probable existence of aliens. 

For once, Quentin felt at ease. So did Peter, really. 

**Author's Note:**

> I said that I wasn't coming back and that I was quitting writing. But, it turns out this was one of the few things helping me heal and be happy. I may or may not be going through a hard time now and I really missed writing and sharing. I hope you understand that or care, I thank you with all my heart for taking the time to read this work, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> :)
> 
> Also, I want this to be a two shot fic so please let me know if you'd like a second chapter <3


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